


Aesthetic Choices

by HolmesianDeduction



Series: 25 Days of Holiday Fic 2k12 [9]
Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011), Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - All Media Types, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - John Le Carré
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Cabin, Dressing gowns, Ice, M/M, Oxford, Pre-Canon, Snow, Winter, frost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesianDeduction/pseuds/HolmesianDeduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[25 Days of Holiday Fic: Day 10 - Frost]</p><p>(A sort of sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/588560">this piece</a>)</p><p>After a long day of skating, Bill and Jim retire to the cabin to continue their winter holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aesthetic Choices

             Leaning against the frozen windowpane, Jim, supposedly watching the falling snow outside of their cabin, watched Bill stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace.  He had only recently come in from the snow with firewood, sullenly thrusting the bundle of wood at Jim and ordering him to “Go ahead and make up the bloody fire while I get out of these wet clothes,” and his hair was still damp and tousled, a slightly curled lock of hair hanging defiantly over his forehead.  His dressing gown draped loosely over his body with the sash undone, the rich garnet-coloured silk clinging to the curve of his back and the angles of his hip as he sprawled carelessly over a field of pillows commandeered from the sofas and chairs, propping himself up on one elbow while his free hand held a half-smoked cigarette to his lips.  He had planned on drawing, but had become distracted when Jim, having changed into his own dressing gown, slipped back into the room and put on a record, and so a small pouch of pencils and a closed sketchbook lay strewn to one side of his makeshift mattress.

             Smoothing the quilted, Prussian blue fabric of his dressing gown, Jim turned his eyes back to the frosted windowpane, his fingers tightening fractionally around his mug as the rustle of silk alerted him to some minute change in Bill's position, and glancing back, he saw the slight shift of Bill's hip and the arch of his knee.  The angle slid the fabric of his dressing gown up his thigh, leaving one of his lithe legs visible almost to the hip and taking a hasty sip of his cider, Jim darted his eyes away again, noting absently that it was almost impossible to see out through the window for all the frost and ice.  The odds of being snowed in for the weekend were increasing with each minute.

             The record clicked off and Bill cleared his throat softly, a noise which immediately caught Jim's attention, and meeting his gaze, Bill offered the barest hint of a crooked smile.  Shaking his head lightly even as his pulse quickened, Jim carefully turned off the player and replaced the record in its sleeve before crossing to the fire and seating himself on one of the pillows near where Bill had stretched himself out.  Bill regarded him silently for a moment, then flicked the remains of his cigarette into the fireplace and, leaning over, delicately took the mug from Jim's hands, setting it safely away near his art supplies before lightly - enough that it was more Jim's movement than his own - pushing him onto his back.

             “Mn?”

             “It's not warm enough.”

             Jim snorted “Perhaps you aren't wearing enough then.  Silk isn't exactly conducive to keeping warm.”

             “Oh shut _up_.”  Bill murmured the retort into Jim's neck, his body moulded firmly to Jim's own through the quilted fabric of his dressing gown, the red silk of Bill's fanning out over them.  “You weren't complaining while you were looking at it, anyway.”

             Jim almost objected, but laughed instead - of course Bill knew he had been watching - Bill always knew.  Closing his eyes, he slipped a hand up into Bill's hair as dry lips brushed over the underside of his jaw.  “Maybe if you wore something underneath, then - like a sensible person -”

             As he slipped loose the sash on Jim's dressing gown, Bill's lips curled into a grin against the other man's neck.  “Why don't you just let me wear yours?”


End file.
